


a thrill that I have never known

by windsweptfic



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alpha!Stacker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Herc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweptfic/pseuds/windsweptfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An omega was in heat somewhere within the Shatterdome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a thrill that I have never known

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to [cinaea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cinaea/pseuds/cinaea) for the beta! Title from 'At Last' by Etta James.
> 
> For [this prompt](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2059853#t2059853) on the kink meme: 
> 
> _Herc is pretty much the least likely omega and likes it that way. He takes suppressants and/or hides well. Maybe it's buried somewhere in his files or omegas can't be in the military and he never talked about it at all, but it's certainly not common knowledge. Stacker, Tendo or someone (other than Chuck), however, does find out or maybe Herc even tells them._
> 
> _\+ 10 for alpha! or beta!Chuck being very unhappy about any alpha with his dad, NOT for incest reasons, and not even for being his usual bratty self, though he might act that way, but because he isn't very trustful that Herc would be treated with respect_

An omega was in heat somewhere within the Shatterdome.

Of itself, that wasn't an unusual occurrence. Omegas were allowed to work in any position aside from being on the front lines, and there were plenty of them around the 'Dome. With the funding cut-off, rules had even been relaxed about suppressants, and Stacker had caught the scent of pheromones plenty over the past few months. None of the MPs were Dynamics, and so they were able to keep a safe watch in case anyone got particularly frisky.

This, though.

Stacker had never experienced anything like _this_.

It had been going on for five days, now. The scent was absolutely _intoxicating_ , reeking of desperation and need, and with an edge of frightened helplessness that was driving nearly every alpha in the Shatterdome to distraction. Aside from the lust the pheromones inspired, an omega in any kind of trouble was just _wrong_ , something that needed to be fixed, and the near violently-protective instincts people were displaying were becoming a serious problem.

Stacker was barely keeping it together, himself. The scent wasn't only delicious--it was _strong_ , unnaturally so, rich and heady and exquisite. It was only through sheer force of will (and some very, very cold showers) that he managed to keep his own instincts in check.

To top it all off, Herc had come down with a nasty bout of flu, and Stacker hadn't truly realized how much he'd been relying on Herc these past months until he was unable to see the man. It was probably unfair, the weight he was putting on Herc's shoulders, but it was the end of the world and Stacker couldn't--wouldn't--trust anyone else. 

It was that which had him standing in front of the the Hansens' quarters, ignoring the biohazard sign taped to the door that read 'Fuck Off' in Chuck's messy scrawl.

Stacker knocked on the heavy metal hatch.

"Fuck off!" Chuck yelled. Stacker very patiently did not roll his eyes.

"This is Marshal Pentecost. I need to speak with your father."

"He's sick, didn't you read the bloody sign? No visitors!" 

"I am aware of his illness, Ranger Hansen," Stacker replied curtly, "And I am willing to risk it. Herc, are you in there?"

There was a brief silence. 

"Yeah?"

Stacker winced; Herc sounded _terrible_. A twinge of guilt coiled inside his chest.

"Herc, I need to talk to you."

"Prolly not the best idea," Herc called hoarsely. 

Stacker let out a small, quiet sigh. He glanced down the hallway briefly.

"I know that you're not feeling well," he said, "But we need to talk, just for a little bit. I promise I won't take up too much of your time, but-- Herc, I _need_ you."

For a long, long while, there was silence. Fear that he was pushing too hard--that he was asking Herc for too much--was just about to drive Stacker away when the door creaked open.

He had barely a second to peer inside before Chuck was grabbing him by the lapels and yanking him into the room.

And the only reason Stacker didn't immediately retaliate was because of the rich scent that instantly assaulted his senses, freezing him in place. He jerked his head around to stare at the source, where Herc was lying half-naked on his bunk, skin sheened with sweat as he struggled to sit up.

"It's you," Stacker said numbly. Herc managed a wan smile.

"Yeah."

Stacker took a dazed, automatic step forward--and almost ran into a wall of snarling Aussie pup, Chuck darting in front of him with his hackles raised.

"If you get any closer," the young Australian snarled, "I swear to god I will tear your throat out."

Stacker very, very carefully did not maim his best friend's son. He took a few seconds to calm the instinctive urge to _fight_ , to _dominate_ , inhaling a deep breath and letting it slowly out. Chuck was being protective, not aggressive. He could appreciate protective.

He didn't feel the need to challenge protective.

"For chrissakes, Chuck, it's just Stacker," Herc rasped from the bed. "Let him through."

"He's an _alpha_ ," Chuck said shortly. He eyed Stacker mistrustfully, arms folded across his chest, and their gazes met. Chuck knew exactly what Stacker was feeling at that moment, his eyes flashing with the understanding that only came with having been an alpha faced with an omega's heat before. 

"And I trust him," Herc replied peevishly. "Now move it."

Chuck glanced over his shoulder, and Stacker did _not_ take advantage of the foolishly defenseless front it presented him. He waited patiently as the Hansens exchanged whatever significant looks passed for communication between them. When Chuck turned back it was with a grimace on his lips, but the young man did step aside.

"If you try anything--"

"I did not get to where I am by being unable to control my instincts," Stacker interrupted curtly. Dynamic power battles were one thing; insult and insubordination were another. "And I would _never_ hurt your father."

Chuck grunted. But he didn't interfere when Stacker stepped around him to go to Herc's side.

Up close, the heady scent of pheromones was impossibly thicker--and Stacker wasn't so delusional as to deny the staggering _want_ that rushed through him, especially when he saw Herc sprawled out on the sheets like a particularly sinful offering. He acknowledged the desire and pushed it aside, confining it to the back of his mind, and looked down at his longest and dearest friend who was, impossibly, an omega.

Herc's usually pale, freckled skin was now flushed an impossibly attractive shade of pink. He was stripped down to just a pair of shorts, and the evidence of his biologically-driven arousal tented the front of the cloth noticeably. Empty water bottles littered the floor, and a wet rag lay atop the nightstand. Stacker reached for it--to take up the task Chuck had obviously been doing when he'd knocked--but he'd barely touched it before a hand was knocking his away. Chuck snatched up the rag with a glare and retreated to his father's other side, carefully bathing Herc's neck and forehead with water from a bucket of ice.

Stacker sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"You never told me," he said softly. Herc summoned an exhausted, apologetic smile.

"You know why I didn't."

Stacker nodded. He did. If this was something Herc had been hiding for so long that it had become second nature, something so ingrained that none of his co-pilots had ever caught it in the Drift-- It wasn't something to be shared easily. Not even with those closest to you. There was still a twinge of hurt, but Stacker overruled it easily. 

"What's going on?" he asked. It didn't take a Dynamic to see that this clearly wasn't natural; the heat was too strong, too intense. Herc shook his head blearily.

"I dunno," he managed. "It's never... 's been _years_ , Stacks, and I haven't missed a dose--still haven't, don't know why 's happening..."

Stacker stretched out a hand, hovering over Herc's sweaty forehead. He could _feel_ the heat rising from his skin, see the glaze in Herc's eyes and the slackness to his mouth. Whatever this was, it was scorching Herc from the inside out.

Fear tightened in Stacker's chest.

"We need to get you to the infirmary," he murmured worriedly.

Chuck jerked his head up.

"No chance in hell."

"Chuck," Stacker started, but the young Australian cut him off with a sharp motion.

"No!" he hissed, voice pitched low even within the confines of their room. "You know what will happen! Omegas can't pilot--they can't even be front-line military. If he goes, if he gets found out--"

"I'm not going to leave him here to burn!" Stacker snarled, standing up. The fear was twisting, now, coiling tighter with every rasping breath Herc took, every bead of sweat that trailed across his flushed skin. Regular heats could be waited out, given proper hydration and care--but this was not _anything_ resembling a normal heat.

"We'll be fine--he'll be fine," Chuck insisted, panic creeping into his voice. "We just--we just have to watch it, be careful--"

"This isn't normal, Chuck. He needs help. He needs an IV, cold saline--"

"You can't take him. I won't _let_ you take him--"

_"Stop."_

Stacker's teeth clicked shut. Across from him, Chuck's did the same. They looked down at the man lying between them--the _omega_ lying between them, the omega _in heat_ , who was practically bleeding his need for help while the two alphas bickered--and Herc gave them both a supremely unimpressed look. He reached out, grabbing for Chuck's arm, tugging until he got his full attention.

"Chuck."

"Dad?" Chuck frowned. After a few seconds of wordless communication his eyes widened, and he shot Stacker a startled glance. "Dad, no-- Are you really...?"

"Yeah," Herc said, licking his lips. Chuck's frown turned into a full-blown scowl; the glare he sent Stacker's way was murderous.

"You can't make decisions while you're like this!"

"I am a grown-ass man, and I can do whatever I damn well please," Herc replied testily. A few moments passed and his eyes softened, his fingers squeezing Chuck's forearm gently. "I'll be alright, Chuck. I'll be fine."

Herc shifted his gaze to Stacker--and realization abruptly smacked Stacker full in the face, bringing with it a chokingly intense rush of _want_.

"What?" he croaked. "You mean you want me to--"

"You know any better ways to take care of a heat?" Herc asked placidly.

"Herc, I..."

At a pointed look from his father, Chuck straightened with a reluctant nod, leaving the bedside. As he passed Stacker, he paused, lowering his voice.

"If _anything_ happens to him, Marshal--"

"Will you just get out?" 

Chuck cast Herc a venomous glance, but he did as he was told and slipped from the room, the door locking behind him. Stacker let him go without comment, still too stunned by what Herc was asking.

"You want me to mate with you."

Something in Herc's expression wavered.

"If it's not too much trouble."

" _Jesus_ , Herc." Stacker scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a helpless, strangled little laugh. "You're really asking me that?"

"Stacks."

Herc's soft voice drew Stacker's attention instantly, and he lifted his gaze. Without Chuck there to put on a front for, the weariness in Herc's eyes had deepened nearly to the point of hopelessness. Pain was etched on his face, dark circles beneath his eyes, and Stacker felt a coil of guilt twist in his chest. Herc had been out of commission for five days; how much of that had been at the peak of this unnatural heat? How long had he been trapped like this, on the edge of pain and arousal, unable to come down?

"Stacks," Herc repeated, his voice cracking, "I don't--I don't have anyone else. There's no one else I can trust."

Stacker swallowed. He reached out unthinkingly, brushing the backs of his knuckles across the stubble on Herc's jaw. A jolt of warmth spiked through him, and the scent of pheromones thickened as Herc turned into his hand with a small, eager sound; Stacker let out a shaky breath.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Herc?" he asked softly. "We can find something else. I can talk to medical, or with Chau, see if he has some kind of mid-heat suppressants..."

Stacker trailed off as Herc nuzzled the inside of his wrist, mouth going dry.

"C'mon, Stacks," Herc said, expression fond and a little wry. "We've been dancing around this for years. It's about time."

Heat twisted in Stacker's gut. Memories nudged the back of his mind: the long, late nights poring over how to improve the Jaegers, worrying over their children being dead-set on becoming pilots, and standing firm together against the media storm that came with surviving so long against all odds. There were reasons he'd yearned after this man for so long, and the only reason he hadn't reached out before was because he wouldn't risk losing Herc. He _couldn't_ risk losing Herc.

But it was the end of the world, all of their cards were on the table, and it was too late to be afraid of taking risks. 

"I suppose it is, isn't it?" Stacker murmured. He leaned down slowly, projecting his intention; Herc didn't take the opportunity to escape, tilting his head back instead so he could claim the kiss Stacker offered. It was sweet, so sweet, and better than anything Stacker had imagined. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Herc whispered against his lips. "I know I should have--"

"No," Stacker interrupted. "No, Herc. There's nothing for you to apologize for. I understand. And I'm going to take care of you now, alright?" 

Herc nodded, eyes sliding shut as Stacker spread a hand over the dips and curves of his collarbone. He was still burning up, sweat slicking his skin, and Stacker shrugged out of his suit jacket before leaning over the side of the bed to pick up a water bottle, cracking the cap and lifting it to Herc's lips. 

"This heat's gone wrong, but I'm going to try to help as best I can," Stacker said, watching, a little transfixed, as Herc's throat worked as he swallowed. "We need to get you cooled down and take the edge off. Have you tried, yet?"

"If you're asking if I've had a wank or ten, the answer is yes," Herc replied. He let out a helpless, frustrated sound. "It hasn't done anything 'cept make my dick chafe."

Stacker nodded absently, thumbing over a scar on Herc's shoulder. He leaned down to nuzzle at Herc's neck, nudging his head further back, exposing his throat--and then he bit down.

Herc _mewled_.

Stacker sucked in a sharp breath as Herc arched beneath him, body taut. But nearly as soon as Herc stiffened, he sagged back against the mattress, the tension bleeding away as he looked up at Stacker with soft, half-lidded, blearily confused eyes.

"You've never been with an alpha before, have you?" Stacker said wonderingly. Herc lifted his chin defiantly, daring him to comment, but Stacker shook his head placatingly. "No, no. I didn't mean anything by it. But it does explain things."

Like how intense the heat was, and how badly Herc was reacting to it. It didn't give reason to why the blockers weren't working, but it gave Stacker something to work with.

"It's a physiological thing," he explained at Herc's questioning noise. He kept a hand on Herc's skin, tracing the curve of his throat, but he started stripping as best he could with the other. "Like a release of endorphins, but a chemical that's unique to Dynamics. That's what we need to trigger to help your heat pass."

"An' you've got some ideas?" Herc surmised, voice slightly slurred. 

A wicked grin curved Stacker's lips.

"Yes, I have a few."

He switched the hand he had rested on Herc's chest, shrugging out of the rest of his dress shirt. Herc let out an appreciative hum, which morphed quickly into a moan as Stacker reached down, hooking a finger beneath the waist of Herc's shorts and tugging. Hips lifted obligingly, and Stacker was not surprised by the fact he'd gone commando--or by the sudden lust that surged through him at finally having Herc bared and pliant and _wanting_ beneath him. He ran a hand admiringly down the flat panes of Herc's chest, tracing light across the joint of thigh and hip.

"Let's see if we can take the edge off, shall we?"

Herc spasmed violently when Stacker's fingers circled around his dick. Stacker knelt partway on the bed, one leg between Herc's as he leaned up to kiss him. Herc was already slick, pre-come dribbling from the head of his cock, and Stacker coated his palm with the fluid before beginning to stroke.

"Stacks," Herc groaned, breath rasping in his lungs. "Stacks, told you, 've tried--"

"I know," Stacker murmured gently. He trailed a line of kisses down Herc's sternum. "Trust me."

Herc let out what sounded suspiciously like a sob. But he spread his legs further apart, fingers clutching desperately at the sheets as he bucked gracelessly into Stacker's hand. Stacker rubbed soothing circles against his inner thigh with his free hand--and then he lowered his mouth to Herc's cock to suck gently on the tip.

Herc _yelled_.

It didn't take long. Herc had been on the edge for days, desperate for relief, and he shook apart beneath Stacker's touch. He came with a hoarse shout, toes curled and head thrown back in gorgeous, wanton abandon.

Stacker wanted to _wreck_ him.

He made his way back up Herc's body, pressing a kiss to his hip, his abdomen, the center of his heaving chest. Herc looked down at him with shocked, dazed eyes, and Stacker couldn't help but smirk.

"Better?" 

Herc nodded mutely. 

Stacker shed his belt and shimmied out of his pants and briefs, dropping them in an uncharacteristic, untidy pile next to the bed. He retrieved the bottle of water and had Herc drain the rest of it, running his fingers through short ginger hair as he did so. Already he could taste the difference as the pheromones rolling off Herc lessened and _shifted_ , his body instinctively recognizing the presence of a mateable alpha and altering his scent to appeal. 

Not that Stacker needed the extra incentive. Herc was resplendent beneath him, flushed and post-orgasmic, and the satisfaction the sight gave him was borne of a desire much older than this heat.

"God, you're beautiful," Stacker breathed. He couldn't quite keep the reverence from his tone, and was delighted at the unexpected blush that darkened Herc's freckled cheeks. He leaned down and kissed each one in turn, and went with a smile when Herc wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him to his lips. 

It was a while before Herc started to come down from the peak of his heat, every subsequent orgasm coaxed from his body helping ease the fever that much more. But Stacker was patient and gentle, and he made sure Herc was as comfortable as possible. He had waited a long time for this, after all.

And it turned out that Chuck possessed some shreds of sense, at least; he didn't dare return until late the next morning.

* * *

Stacker probably should have felt at least a little uncomfortable with the knowing glances he received after spending the majority of three days confined to Herc's room. He knew the rumors: that the stoic Marshal had given in to an unsuspected sentimentality and braved illness to speak with his beloved second in command, only to catch the same thing Herc had--condemning the two star-crossed lovers to share the same quarters until they finally expressed their affections. 

It was decent enough fodder for the gossip mill, close enough to the truth to be plausible while remaining completely false.

But it also had the effect of making him bolder in his interactions with Herc, leaving a hand lingering on his shoulder, or at the small of his back. The squeals of the tech girls and Chuck's wrinkled nose weren't any kind of deterrent--not when every stolen touch brought a fond smile to Herc's lips. 

So Stacker shouldered the whispers and the speculative looks, and didn't bother trying to hide the contentment that came from having Herc near him. The file on Hercules Hansen continued to say 'non-Dynamic', life continued on, and the world didn't end.

For either of them.


End file.
